


i may never sleep tonight, as long as you’re still burning bright

by uaevuon



Series: Legends Never Die (the omegaverse geass AU) [6]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Immortality, LLYBB, Lactation, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Sex Toys, Temporary Character Death, magical contract a la code geass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 12:04:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16085744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uaevuon/pseuds/uaevuon
Summary: Viktor realized dimly that Yuuri had said he used the toys, but not that they ever satisfied him. Tears spilled from his eyes and down his face, and he saw himself in Yuuri’s bedroom mirror; he looked a mess, absolutely ruined, needy, pitiable. He was embarrassed to see himself in such a state, couldn’t bear the possibility of anyone else coming in, and yet still he begged for Yuuri, who was too far away on the other side of the wall.





	i may never sleep tonight, as long as you’re still burning bright

**Author's Note:**

> cw for feelings about fertility, discussion of mpreg, note the lactation tag
> 
> this work is part of a series, and will not make any sense without having read the previous parts.

Viktor was suffering. 

His skin itched, his scent glands burned. The sheets below him were already saturated with his sweat, and the pillow between his legs soaking wet with the slick that dripped, incessant, from his cunt. 

Viktor’s thighs clamped around a pillow, tense as his hips thrust forward, humping the pillow as if it was anywhere close to enough. While he had plenty of (Yuuri’s) sex toys at his disposal, part of him felt embarrassed. He hadn’t had a heat in so long, barely even had a sex drive — well, not compared to most omegas. Viktor was under no illusions, he knew Yuuri woke up wet and hard and had a nice good wank in the toilet where Viktor couldn’t spy on him every morning and night and sometimes in the middle of the day in Ice Castle’s locker room, and that was normal. Viktor remembering he had a vibrator only once every week or two? Kind of weird for an omega. Perhaps less weird for a beta, or a _gamma_ as Viktor was starting to get used to thinking of himself. 

But one weak orgasm fortnightly definitely did not prepare him for _this_. This heat, this lust, this insatiable need to _fuck_ and _cum_ and _bite_. His teeth were clamped around the sleeve of Yuuri’s jacket, the closest thing he had to sinking a bond bite into Yuuri’s skin. 

And he couldn’t deny he felt empty. That was the hardest part of all. He knew he’d give in and shove one or several of Yuuri’s collection of dildos inside himself soon, and he knew it wouldn’t be enough, because the emptiness wasn’t only physical. He felt empty emotionally too. He needed Yuuri there, if not to fuck him then just to hold him while he opened himself on alpha dildos. 

He heard movement in the next room. Yuuri was in there — _my Yuuri_ — and fuck it, Viktor couldn’t hold back any longer. He reached into the box that sat on the floor beside Yuuri’s bed, picked up the cloth bag that seemed the least intimidating in size, and extracted the dildo within, giving it a cursory inspection before shoving it between his legs and shouting. 

It was probably a beta dildo, sizable but not over-large, and with no knot at the base. It curved inside Viktor nicely, not too thick, not too deep, but more than his fingers had ever done for him.

All too soon, it wasn’t thick or deep enough. 

Viktor flung it to the floor. Within moments he was up on his knees, his hips hovering over a much larger hunk of silicone. 

Yuuri’s smallest knotting dildo was still quite large. It wasn’t something Viktor would ever think to pick out for himself, and it intimidated him. The tip went in, but the head couldn’t pass at first; Viktor tried to relax, to sink down onto it, but it wouldn’t budge. He groaned in frustration and curled two fingers into his soaking cunt, trying to force it to stretch enough to take the dildo. 

He couldn’t imagine this ever being _fun_. Even if he had Yuuri to share it with, it was _agony_ to not be filled to the brim. But no alpha would be enough, not when his heart was Yuuri’s —

The head slid in, and Viktor came, suddenly and all over Yuuri’s blankets. 

Viktor fucked himself down onto the dildo, not missing a beat. He sank lower with each thrust down, until it hurt, and then his hips jerked pitifully as he tried to slow down. He couldn’t tear his cunt open on day one. 

(That rumor about omegas being naturally loose enough to take a knot was bullshit.)

Viktor whined, whispering _more, more, more_ over and over until the words blended together — _moremoremoreplease!_ But what more? What more than a massive knot did Viktor need to make himself feel full? A baby?

…oh. Right. That was exactly what the heat wanted. 

Viktor leaned back, trying to fit more of the cock in with a new angle. He felt the bun in his hair coming loose, not surprised after all the thrashing around he did, but he paid it no mind, too focused on the feeling of _too much!_ and _not enough!_

Not enough, never enough, certainly not without Yuuri. 

“Yuuri!” Viktor shouted, as the new angle allowed him to sink down a few more inches, almost down to the flexible ridges that marked the start of the inflatable knot. Even deflated, it was wider than the rest of the dildo, but Viktor was determined to take it down to the root. This was how Yuuri satisfied himself during his heat, so it must work for Viktor, too, right? 

Hours later, with the dildo knotted firmly in place, Viktor realized dimly that Yuuri had said he used the toys, but not that they ever satisfied him. Tears spilled from his eyes and down his face, and he saw himself in Yuuri’s bedroom mirror; he looked a mess, absolutely ruined, needy, pitiable. He was embarrassed to see himself in such a state, couldn’t bear the possibility of anyone else coming in, and yet still he begged for Yuuri, who was too far away on the other side of the wall. If he listened closely, he could hear the telltale sounds of Yuuri touching himself, and some part of Viktor was pleased he could inspire this in Yuuri, but at the same time he felt needy, lonely; he wanted to see it, he wanted to touch Yuuri with his own hands, love him with his whole body. 

\---

After a full day of Viktor’s heat, Yuuri was nearly as tired as if he’d been fucking Viktor through it. That was probably because he’d been exerting himself similarly, unable to keep his hands off himself for long while he could hear Viktor whining, moaning, and rocking Yuuri’s bed into the wall. He’d tried to get out of the room for a little while, to eat or soak in the onsen, but he didn’t want to stay away for long; he’d promised Viktor he would be in the next room if Viktor needed anything. 

Every few hours, Viktor tired and took a break, his heat taking a backseat to fatigue or hunger. During those times, Yuuri stretched a bit, went for a short run in the neighborhood, making sure to be back before Viktor woke. Or he napped as well, knowing Viktor’s moans would make a great alarm clock. 

It was during one of these quiet lulls that Yuuri heard knocking on the wall that separated them. He sat up. “Viktor?”

“ _Yuuri_ ,” Viktor responded. The wall was thin, not doing much to muffle him. 

“Do you need something?” Yuuri pressed a hand against the wall, imagining Viktor was doing the same on the other side. 

“No. You should skate.”

“Skate?” Yuuri stared at the wall between them. “I’m not going to leave you.” Yuuko and Minako, summoned by Mari, had come earlier in the day to try to convince him of the same thing, and he’d turned them down swiftly, difficult as it was for Yuuri to reject the demands of two alphas.

“You don’t have to stay, Yuuri. It’s… hard. But I’m okay.” 

“No. I can’t leave you. You’re my—” He almost said _mate_ , but Viktor wasn’t. “You’re my omega. I can’t leave. I have to protect you.”

Laughter. “You’re talking like an alpha.”

“Wouldn’t you do the same for me?”

“Yes. That’s why I’m telling you, you don’t have to. I’m fine. You can keep it short if you want, but you need to practice. The Grand Prix will be here before you know it.”

Yuuri leaned his forehead against the wall. “Viktor…”

“Please? I’ll be happier knowing you’re not slacking on your practice while I’m… incapacitated.”

“Will you really?”

More laughter, and the crack of a water bottle opening. “Are you questioning your coach?”

“You won’t know if I stay.”

“Oh, I’ll know. Your quad Salchow won’t improve itself while you sit there, not to mention that I can hear you. What have you been doing, playing video games?”

“Uh.” Yuuri looked down at his lap, at the cum stains on his shirt and dried fluids all down his thighs. “…Yeah. Video games.”

“Careful your joystick doesn’t fall off.” 

Yuuri’s face screwed up as he tried not to laugh. It was pointless. He laughed anyway. “Viktor!”

Viktor waited until Yuuri stopped laughing before he spoke again. “Please go practice.” 

Yuuri sighed heavily. “I feel wrong leaving you. Even just to go to the bathroom. It feels like I’m away for too long.”

“Yuuri.” Viktor hardened his voice, as much as he could while still definitely in the middle of his heat. “You said you would break all my records. You can’t do that if you sit on your ass and do the one-man-hand-dance to the sweet sounds of omegan neediness. Get out there and skate. For me.” 

Yuuri leaned against the wall. He had to admit, he wanted to be back on the ice. But he couldn’t if he knew Viktor needed him. 

“I’ll be fine, Yuuri. It’s just a heat. Omegas have them all the time.”

“How will I know if you need me?” 

“You’ll know,” Viktor said. “In your head. You’ll feel it.” 

“Okay,” Yuuri said, not understanding but finally relenting. 

“I wish I could kiss you goodbye.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Yuuri stood up and let his hand trail across the wall; he wished the same, and to comb the inevitable tangles out of Viktor’s hair. He’d do it all when Viktor’s heat broke, and they could be close once again. 

For now, he padded down to the showers to rinse himself free of all the fluids that had collected between his legs. He realized only when he got back to Viktor’s room that he hadn’t brought out any of his own clothes. Usually a few shirts and pants of Yuuri’s ended up in Viktor’s laundry basket, but Viktor had requested all of their worn clothes for his nest, to saturate it with their scents. 

Only Viktor’s clean clothes were left, so Yuuri borrowed a shirt and pants; after a bit of deliberation, and wondering if he should interrupt the moans next door to ask if it was okay, Yuuri sighed and borrowed one of Viktor’s tiny black thongs as well. Were he not about to go skating, and were he not borrowing clothes, he’d forgo underwear as he usually did. 

It was an unfamiliar feeling to wear the thong, but… Not uncomfortable. Yuuri frowned as he shuffled his feet, trying to get used to the feeling of cloth between his cheeks. The fabric was smooth and soft, the elastic not pinching at all, though the thong was tight enough to hold his bits firmly in place, and it covered more than Yuuri expected in front. 

Viktor’s moans grew louder, and Yuuri hurriedly dressed himself the rest of the way, lest he get himself turned on again before he could leave. 

Mari stopped Yuuri on his way out. “Is it over so soon?”

Yuuri shook his head. “He told me to go practice.” Mari let him go, but not before their mother physically dragged him to the dining room for a proper meal. 

Luckily Yuuri’s skates and bag were in Viktor’s room, so he wouldn’t have to rely on awkwardly sized rentals and the half hour of sharpening it would take to get them up to standard for spins. No jumps, not on rented skates and certainly not in this mental state, where Yuuri’s head felt like electrified cotton and his limbs felt like fizzy gelatin. 

He ended up in his old skates anyway, after fishing them out from the bottom of the bag. He’d already ground down the toe picks for their new purpose, and he practiced figures for a few hours. 

It was evening, technically after-hours for Ice Castle; he’d go back in the morning, when Yuuko or Takeshi were supervising, to practice the Salchow Viktor wanted him to improve upon. For now, he used the quiet and solitude to clear his mind, the repetitive motion of compulsory figures providing the grounding and focus he needed. 

Yuuri’s mind slowly turned away from the buzzing of concern and arousal he’d carried out of the house. Eventually, it was enough for Yuuri to feel calm. Not completely without concern or care, but he didn’t feel his blood rushing under his skin pushing him to _do something do something do something_. 

He changed back into his running shoes, finished off his water bottle, and locked up the back entry of Ice Castle that he used at night. Rather than head right home, Yuuri took a detour to the beach. He and Viktor came here often enough that they had a spot they usually sat in, a large piece of driftwood that seemed like the trunk of a lightning-struck tree, resting just out of reach of the highest tide. Yuuri pulled up his feet on top of the log and rested his bag in Viktor’s usual spot. 

It was strange to sit here alone. It felt wrong, somehow, to be here without Viktor by his side. Though he knew Viktor was safe at home, riding out his heat in Yuuri’s bedroom, nesting in Yuuri’s bed. It gave Yuuri a sense of pride to know that Viktor felt comfortable spending his heat in Yuuri’s space; if he hadn’t, he would have rejected it outright, but he’d snuggled into Yuuri’s sheets as soon as Yuuri let him in. 

If only he were here, snuggled into Yuuri…

It was a marvel, sometimes, that Yuuri felt as close as he did to Viktor after only a few months of knowing him. Perhaps it was inevitable that Yuuri would come to care about Viktor, but the man was so different from the legend that to get to know him meant separating him from everything Yuuri thought he knew about the great figure skater Viktor Nikiforov. 

Which meant it was even harder to be apart. This was a person who Yuuri had learned from the ground up, who had opened himself up to Yuuri in a way that it was obvious he hadn’t done to another person in a long time. The awkward stops and starts that categorized both Yuuri and Viktor’s steps forward into this convoluted relationship betrayed their unfamiliarity with the practice of being in relationships at all (and Yuuri’s relative promiscuity during his heats did not amount to any sort of emotional intimacy; he was as in the dark about this as Viktor.) They were attached to one another in a very much predictable first-love kind of way, but that didn’t cheapen it; if anything, it made Yuuri all the more determined to see this through, to make this relationship work despite all that stood between them. Whether that be their admittedly informal coach-student partnership, their awkwardly timed heats, Viktor’s immortality, Yuuri’s emotionality, or even their agreement that Yuuri would do his best to erase all the achievements made by his hero, the very man with whom he was slowly but definitively falling in love. 

Yuuri snorted once, then as the salty sea air caught up in his nose, he laughed, loud and uncontrollable. He fell off the log, sliding back until his butt hit the ground, followed by his back, and he continued to laugh at the sky with sand in his hair. 

Of course. Of all the things Yuuri Katsuki could do with his ridiculous hero-crush on the long-dead Viktor Nikiforov, apparently the impossible but very much real result was that the very much not-dead Viktor would pop up out of the blue and not only coach Yuuri to exceed Viktor’s prowess, but also make Yuuri fall in love with him. 

It shouldn’t surprise Yuuri, and it didn’t, not really; he’d said as much in different ways, through his skating, through his protectiveness of Viktor, even aloud in very roundabout ways that had always embarrassed him immediately after. 

“I’m in love with Viktor Nikiforov,” Yuuri said to the sky. The dark abyss said nothing back, giving no judgment; Yuuri’s anxiety was uncharacteristically quiet as well. Only a little niggling at the back of his mind pushed its way in, threads spreading out between his neurons before they _pulled_ —

Yuuri stood and dusted himself off. The insistent tug at his mind was wordless and without demand, only a steady _come here_ that Yuuri instantly knew was Viktor. _You’ll know_ , Viktor had said, and Yuuri did. He picked up his bag, still chuckling at his own ridiculousness, and headed back towards Yu-topia, wondering idly and without expectation if Viktor loved him too. 

\---

When Yuuri got back, Viktor was quiet. He followed the pull to Viktor’s room, then to the wall that separated them; when he sat down, he could hear Viktor making quiet, breathy noises on the other side. 

“Viktor?”

“Yuuri,” Viktor said, and it was almost a moan, but not quite. “You came.”

“I did. That was you tugging at my mind, right?” Yuuri had no better way of explaining it. But with all the magic flying around in his life these days, he didn’t try to. If his contract with Viktor afforded them some kind of mental connection… well, it wasn’t nearly as much as a bond would give, but it was nice, to have Viktor be able to call out for him if he needed too. Yuuri wondered if it worked the other way as well. 

“Yeah.” Hitched breaths. Yuuri tried not to think about what Viktor must be doing to himself on the other side of the wall. And why the hell was he doing it on the floor, when there was a perfectly nice bed for him to nest in while he bent to the will of his heat? “Missed you.”

“Get in my bed, Viktor. You’ll have my scent.”

“I want you.” 

The declaration made Yuuri flush. He bit his lip, too proud that he had Viktor in his life, wanting him, needing him, to hold back a grin. Yuuri turned in toward the wall, leaning his whole body against it. 

Viktor must have heard him shuffling closer, as he let out a moan, audible but small. “Yuuri. Wh-what did you do while you were out?”

“I practiced, like you told me. No jumps, it’s too late at night, but I did some figures to clear my head.” 

“Mm.”

“I borrowed your clothes,” Yuuri admitted, but before he could apologize for doing so without asking, he heard Viktor whine his name. 

“Yuuri!” Viktor shouted, breathless. “You can’t just — spring that on me.” Viktor’s voice was whiny, needy; Yuuri could hear the slick noises of him fucking himself. “I’m vul-ner-a-ble,” Viktor stuttered, before another low moan.

“I’m wearing your underwear, too,” Yuuri teased, and when Viktor moaned again, he gave in and pushed the borrowed pants off. 

“Are you touching yourself, Yuuri?”

“Mhm.” Yuuri pressed his lips together as his fingers stroked his stiffening cock through the smooth black fabric. “I’ll leave the thong on, if you like.”

“I want it,” Viktor growled. Then he shouted, over and over, alongside the quieter hiss of an inflating knot. 

Yuuri leaned his head back, knocking against the wall. He pushed the fabric aside, stroking himself without taking off the thong. 

“Want to smell you,” Viktor babbled between labored breaths. “Want you in me. Want to be in you.” He keened, nails scrabbling against the wall. “It’s so deep, Yuuri, it’s stretching me so wide. I’d be so loose around you.” 

Yuuri bit his lip around a curse, his eyes shut tight while his hands pushed and pulled, palm on his cock, three fingers shoving into his wet cunt. 

“Yuuri, would you like it if I was loose? Or do you want me to be tight around you?”

“Oh, god —” Yuuri squeezed his thighs together, stopping the movement of his hands, trying not to cum just yet. “I-I want whatever you—”

“No, Yuuri, tell me what you want,” Viktor demanded. “I want to be perfect for you.” 

Yuuri gave in, letting the words spill from his lips. “I want you to be loose and wet. I want to fuck you with one of the toys first, knot you with it, and then I’ll fuck into you and I want it to be messy and easy.”

“Yes, yes, Yuuri!” The telltale scream of Viktor cumming hard, and Yuuri followed him, trying to muffle the noise into his shoulder and missing the mark, gasping and shouting along with Viktor. 

Viktor breathed heavily, coming down slowly from the high of his orgasm. “Why do you have to be so far?” he whined. 

“I’m right here,” Yuuri reminded him, breathless. 

Viktor slapped his palm against the wall, startling Yuuri. “Too far! I want you in my arms.” 

“You know I can’t.” 

“I know.”

“Mine will be right after yours.”

“Can I join you?” 

Yuuri heaved a great sigh, hating the words that followed. “No. It’s too close.”

“Next time?”

“We’ll talk about it, when this is over.” 

“Alright.” There was a slow sucking sound; Viktor was rising up off the dildo, leaving all his sticky wetness behind. “I’m gonna sleep.”

“Mm. Sleep sounds nice,” Yuuri agreed. He peeled off Viktor’s underwear, now sticky with fluids, and made to throw it in the direction of the laundry basket. Before he could let it fly, he retracted his arm, bringing the cloth to his face to smell it. 

Okay, first of all, _gross_. It was sticky and wet and that made Yuuri’s face sticky and wet. It smelled mostly like Yuuri’s cum, slightly of Yuuri’s sweat, and if he really shoved his face into it and took a nice, deep sniff (which Yuuri did, unfortunately for his skin) he could pick out Viktor’s scent, not completely neutralized by washing such an intimate garment. 

Yuuri resisted the urge to stuff the sweaty, cummy thong into his mouth, though he did let it fall to the bed instead of putting it in the basket with all the other dirty clothes. His borrowed shirt and pants came off as well, tucked into the sheets. He may as well start nesting in here, give Viktor something to come back to after his heat ended. It was rather uncommon to nest with only a futon mattress, as it would usually need to be aired out almost every day, but Yuuri decided it was worth his and Viktor’s scents sinking into the fabric and filler. With the clothing tucked securely around him, Yuuri curled up on his side and fell asleep to the soothing sound of Viktor’s intermittent snores coming through the wall. 

\---

When Viktor’s heat finally ended and he pushed aside the heavy scentproof door, Yuuri came knocking before Viktor could even get the window open for airing out. Viktor called out for him to come in, and the normal _shoji_ rattled with the force of Yuuri slamming it open. 

Yuuri stayed in the doorway, taking in the sight before him; Viktor, nude, hair mussed, skin pink and sweat-shiny, thighs crusted with drying slick and cum, standing in Yuuri’s room, still musky from Viktor’s barely broken heat. He’d spent his heat in _Yuuri’s room_. Yuuri breathed in deep, his instincts taking hold; his knuckles went white as he gripped the door frame to keep himself in place. 

Viktor finally got the latch open. Yuuri watched the muscles of his back, his butt, his legs flex as Viktor went up on his toes to push the glass outward. Then Viktor turned halfway, and Yuuri was absolutely helpless to Viktor reaching a hand out, beckoning him closer. Yuuri stumbled over himself, not even breathing until Viktor pulled him into a tight hug. 

“I missed you,” Viktor admitted. His hands kneaded into Yuuri’s back, wrinkling his own shirt, the third Yuuri had borrowed. Then higher, his wrists pressing into the sides of Yuuri’s neck, replacing the fading scent of desperation with Viktor’s own floral notes. Yuuri was holding him too tight around the waist to scent him, so Viktor pouted and grabbed Yuuri’s arms, moving them to the right position, hands on his ass, their scents intermixing at his lower back. Then he went back to stroking Yuuri’s hair, his neck. 

Yuuri seemed incapable of speech, too busy spending all of his breaths soaking in the lust and need still painted on Viktor’s skin. Viktor let him indulge for a while, until Yuuri said, “You smell so good I can’t move.” 

“You’re sure we can’t spend your heat together?” Viktor asked. 

Yuuri shivered. “You can’t ask me that. It’s — my heat is so off schedule. I was supposed to have another few weeks. It keeps moving up. It’s going to come in two days at best.” He knew his body had already chosen Viktor as his mate. He knew his heat had shifted to wildly to try and match up to Viktor’s. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t. 

“No chance of talking about it, huh?” Viktor asked, but he already knew the answer. He _wanted_ , so badly, but he knew he wasn’t in the right mind to say so. Even if it didn’t make sense to him, because he knew he would think no differently with any distance from his heat, he had to respect Yuuri’s refusal. 

“Next time,” Yuuri said. “We’ll talk about it. I don’t think I’m ready this time, anyway.” He breathed in deep again; groaned at the mix of his scent on Viktor’s skin. “Even if you’re testing my self-control right now.”

“Can we kiss, at least?”

Yuuri sighed, warm air passing over the quickly cooling skin of Viktor’s neck. “Yeah. Just let me close the door. Get on the bed.”

Viktor pecked a kiss on Yuuri’s cheek and disentangled from him. He let Yuuri slide the door closed for privacy and snuggled into Yuuri’s bed, still saturated with his scent and messy with clothes and blankets falling off the side. 

Yuuri took one look at this mess and frowned. “You don’t nest?” 

Viktor looked at the heaps of cloth around him, in complete disarray. There was no structure, no method, no way of keeping the blankets from moving around. “Not really. I never feel the need to.”

“Nesting isn’t really that kind of instinct.” Yuuri reached a hand out, then pulled it back; even if this wasn’t a proper nest, it was still Viktor’s space, and he hadn’t been invited back in. “It’s not so much a need,” Yuuri continued to explain. “It’s more that it feels protective when it’s done. You’ve never tried?”

Viktor shook his head.

“Do you want to?”

Viktor shrugged. “It’s your bed. If you usually do, then we might as well.” Viktor reached out for Yuuri’s hand, entangling their fingers. “You can join me.” 

Yuuri leaned his knees on the bed, but still stayed near the edge. “Help me make a nest. Please?”

“I don’t know how.”

“I’ll show you.” Yuuri stood back up, and he used their entwined hands to pull Viktor to his feet as well. He set to work twisting the extra blankets into one another; piles of fabric turned into structure, woven together with clothes, and pillows softened corners. Yuuri’s hands and low voice walked Viktor through how to tie and weave the ends of sheets into one another, how to stack low walls of softness, how much space to leave on the open side of the bed for getting in and out of the crescent-shaped nest, and even how to close that side up for a full heat wall. It wasn’t anything spectacular, nothing like what some omegas put together in the round, canopied heat beds Yuuri had seen in so many movies and holofilms. But it was cozy, the egg-shaped nest and the soft depression in the middle making the most of Yuuri’s twin bed. 

Yuuri shed his clothes, tucking them against the wall, and climbed into the nest; he held his hand out to Viktor, who got in unsteadily after him. It was a tight fit, two fully grown men on such a small bed, half taken up by piled clothing, but they managed to find a comfortable squeeze that put their faces level with one another. 

Viktor sighed as soon as his head rested on the pillow next to Yuuri. “Oh,” he breathed. 

“You like the nest?”

Viktor nodded. His eyes fluttered shut, and he dragged Yuuri closer to him, snuggling with him under the heavy blanket left over. It was stained from Viktor’s heat, and would probably stain worse when Yuuri used it as additional padding beneath him after the heat rendered its usual use unnecessary. 

“Can’t believe in a hundred years you never once tried to make a nest.”

“Shh,” Viktor hissed, and followed this with a kiss to Yuuri’s lips. 

Yuuri pressed forward, hungry for the taste of Viktor’s mouth, hands itching to touch his flushed skin. He strayed away from anything too sensitive, like Viktor’s puffy, erect nipples, but made sure to massage his love into each of Viktor’s scent glands, into the muscles of his abdomen, into his slim waist and strong hips. He turned Viktor onto his back, hovered over him as he sucked on Viktor’s lips and soothed his shivers with warm hands. Viktor, in turn, clutched at Yuuri’s back, hands roaming up and down, from tangling in Yuuri’s hair and massaging his scalp, to scratching at his shoulders, to gripping tight his ass and the back of his thighs. 

Yuuri kept his knees tucked under him, stopping him from grinding down on Viktor as every cell in his body ached to. But his lips didn’t part from Viktor’s, not even for air, their breaths puffing hard from their noses onto one another’s cheeks. 

They kissed until their lips swelled; they kissed until saliva dripped from their mouths; they kissed until there were red scratch marks down Yuuri’s back and finger-shaped bruises around each of Viktor’s swollen scent glands. They kissed until the setting sun streamed in too-bright through Yuuri’s window. They kissed until Hiroko came knocking, letting them know she was starting dinner, at which point they finally extracted from one another. 

Yuuri wrapped Viktor up in a clean towel, then wrapped another around himself, and they went to shower before they could push their rather significant scents on anyone else. 

Viktor was clearly tired; he’d slept for most of the day after his heat broke, before opening the room up to Yuuri, but he’d need much more than that to truly recover. He took his shower mostly seated on one of the plastic seats provided, though he winced at the hard feeling against his tender backside. Yuuri stood at the next shower head, watching over him as if anyone would bother them here. 

“We’ll have to clean all your toys,” Viktor said. 

“All?” Yuuri asked, surprised. There were some pretty big novelties in there, ones he hadn’t even tried until he’d been having heats for many years. 

Viktor blinked up at him. “Well, you know. All the ones I used.” 

“Oh.” Yuuri scrubbed a little harder at his inner thigh, hoping the roughness of the scent masking soap would stop him from getting any more turned on. “Yeah, we’ll do that after dinner. Um, it might take a while. I have to boil most of them individually.” 

Viktor nodded, scrubbing his loofah across his chest. He winced, pulling the soapy mesh away from his skin to look down. “Ow.”

“Something wrong?” Yuuri looked down at Viktor, squinted at the way his hand was cupped over his chest. 

“Hurts.” Viktor scrunched his face up as he pressed down with his palm. “Is it supposed to hurt?”

Yuuri surreptitiously turned the water a little colder. “Um. Sometimes. Depends on what you, you know, did.” 

“Why so embarrassed?” Viktor asked, his tone teasing. “You heard most of it.” 

Yuuri leaned forward, resting his head against cool tile. “Viktor.”

Viktor giggled, then winced again, with an audible grunt. “Okay, that hurts a lot. I don’t even think I played with my nipples that much. Ooh, I can see my albatross in your eye! Good thing we’re the only ones in here, I wouldn’t want you getting someone horny again while we’re having a heart-to-heart.”

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut. “Viktor.” 

Viktor gasped, and then breathed out a quiet, “Oh.” 

Yuuri looked down again, to see Viktor staring at his chest, bewildered, as a trickle of white fluid streamed from his left nipple. 

“That’s never happened before.”

Yuuri kneeled down on the shower tile in front of Viktor, his hands over his mouth as he stared. Heat milk was nothing new to Yuuri, but it usually started before the heat, not after; in fact, Yuuri was already starting to feel the awkward tingle of swelling in his own chest. And while Yuuri wanted so badly to have a taste, he knew it wasn’t his place. He wasn’t Viktor’s mate (or, at least, wasn’t yet) so he had no right to it. Still, this was one of his favorite things about heating with other omegas, watching the relief in their eyes when their milk finally released, the way their bodies relaxed and their breaths calmed, the way they smiled with a blissful contentment at the proof of their fertility. 

Viktor did none of those things, only stared shocked as his right nipple began to leak as well, experiencing this for the first time and frozen in awe. And he was more beautiful by far than any other omega Yuuri had ever seen. 

“Viktor?” Yuuri said. “Can I come closer?” He didn’t want to crowd Viktor, but he needed to be close. 

Viktor nodded minutely, and Yuuri shuffled forward, placing his hands on Viktor’s shoulders. 

“Hey,” Yuuri whispered. “Just let it out.” 

Viktor nodded again, and his eyes lifted to meet Yuuri’s; they glittered, wet with unshed tears. 

“Viktor?”

“I didn’t think…” Viktor gasped in a breath. “I didn’t think I could. We— with the code, the way our bodies work, I didn’t think I ever could. We bleed, and we can have heats, you know, but they’re fake. I’ve never known one of us to actually be…” Viktor didn’t finish the sentence, as if putting the words out into the world made them too real. But Yuuri heard it anyway. The desperate desire ingrained so deeply in every omega to bear a child; Viktor’s belief that his immortality, his body’s natural inclination to destroy anything that drew from its energy, wouldn’t allow it; Viktor’s sudden realization that, even for just this moment, he had a chance. 

Yuuri drew Viktor in, leaving room between their chests so he wouldn’t irritate Viktor’s sensitive nipples, but allowing Viktor to rest in the crook of Yuuri’s neck. He rubbed his hands up and down Viktor’s back, helping him to breathe slowly in and out as he tried to keep calm. Viktor’s hands traveled down, over his belly, as if he could feel a difference, as if he could feel that it worked, even if it was empty. 

 

For whatever reason, Viktor refused to cry. At the very least, Yuuri had never seen him do it. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t ask. But Yuuri knew well what unshed tears looked like, and he comforted Viktor the only way he knew how, just by being there for him. 

When Viktor calmed down, he turned around on his little seat, and asked Yuuri to condition his hair. It was tangled and matted in many places, and it took a while for Yuuri to work the knots out, even with the slippery conditioner saturating each one. Eventually, Yuuri could run his fingers down through the long sweep of silver without encountering a single snag, and he carefully rinsed the conditioner out, leaving Viktor’s hair smooth and shiny. He turned the water off for both of them and let Viktor lean against him for a few minutes. Then, Viktor murmured he was cold, and they got up to finally dry off and dress. 

By the time Viktor and Yuuri got to dinner, Hiroko had already set out dishes for the family. Viktor and Yuuri’s bowls were on the table, covered to keep the food warm. She’d made a hearty soup, for both the season’s cool nights and Viktor’s post-heat chill. The pair gave their thanks for the meal and ate slowly, seated close together, as if they really had spent the heat together and couldn’t yet bear to be apart. But it was the opposite; after their separation, they were desperate to be together. As much as it seemed co-dependent, it felt nice to be in one another’s presence again, and knowing they would have to part again in just a few shorts days made them all the needier. 

It scared Yuuri, sometimes, how fast they seemed to be getting attached to one another. Even as their physical relationship moved slowly, only now given a push by their heats, their emotions entangled into an inextricable mess. Yuuri had fallen in love, and while he couldn’t speak for Viktor’s feelings, he at least trusted that Viktor meant it when he said he wanted to stay, and that had to count for something. 

The way those around them reacted to it was heartening as well, sometimes overwhelmingly so. Yuuri’s parents were more than supportive of their closeness, moving into ecstatic with the way their eyes glowed to set upon Yuuri showing such open affection in public, damn near cuddling with Viktor at the table. Even Mari, who usually liked to poke fun at her brother whenever possible, sensed the steps that Yuuri and Viktor took forward together, and treated their relationship delicately. Not that she didn’t tease Yuuri about it, but she did so carefully, and in her more tender moments, encouraged them. Such as here, at the table, when she paused in eating to watch Yuuri twist a lock of Viktor’s damp hair absently around his finger, and said to them, “You look happy.” 

Yuuri didn’t look up from inspecting the play of light on silvery blond, but his lips twitched up in a smile. Viktor looked at her and said confidently, “We are.”

\---

After the dishes were cleared, the guests had gone to bed, and the sex toys had been boiled sterile over the course of several hours in the one pot designated for such purposes, Yuuri and Viktor retreated to the bedroom, and it was Yuuri’s turn to look ahead to his rapidly approaching heat. His thoughts turned baleful at the impending loss of Viktor as his hormones spiked with pre-heat; Viktor, securely in his arms, slowly achieved clarity as his own post-heat waned.

This close, Yuuri could see the tiny, faint freckles on Viktor’s nose and the tops of his cheeks. He wondered what Viktor could see in his face, what features Viktor might find that Yuuri had never noticed. Would he fixate on the odd shape of Yuuri’s eyebrows? Would he sweep Yuuri’s hair aside and see the place where his hairline was thin, where Yuuri had hit his head on the ice as a child and needed three stitches? Would he see the marks all over Yuuri’s jaw left over from his teenage acne? 

“I never noticed, your eyes…” Viktor trailed off, and he did brush Yuuri’s hair aside, but stayed fixed on his irises. “They’re brown, I know, but sort of reddish.” 

“Yeah.” Yuuri had his mother’s eyes; in general, he looked more like her than he did like his father. He had Hiroko’s face, her eyes, her tendency towards roundness if not for obsessive athleticism; only Yuuri’s height and his personality when intoxicated showed his resemblance to Toshiya. 

“Beautiful,” Viktor said. His thumb brushed under Yuuri’s eyelid, and he kissed him again. 

It was only a matter of time until Yuuri started begging, and Viktor had sworn to be gentle in his repeated rejections and leave the room before Yuuri spilled over into his messy heat. 

By morning, Yuuri’s chest had grown heavy with heat milk, ready to spill at the slightest touch. Yuuri usually preferred to let it out during his heat, when the pleasure achieved would be highest, despite the mess he knew it would cause and the strange smell that would linger when the milk dried on his hot skin. But with the thrill of knowing it was Viktor beside him, holding him, watching him, wanting him, Yuuri wanted it now. He pushed Viktor onto his back and seated himself of Viktor’s hips, and he lifted his shirt, reached up and grasped his small breast, massaging until he leaked. 

Viktor grinned, delighted at the sight. “Yuuri…” Viktor’s hands trembled on Yuuri’s waist. 

Yuuri bit his lip as he massaged his other nipple; the first moment was the best, when all the tightness in his chest released, and with it came that stream of liquid. Viktor caught up a drop of it from Yuuri’s waist with his thumb. 

“You can taste it if you want,” Yuuri whispered. He’d be embarrassed about this later, the laying bare of his desire for Viktor to mate him loaded into that small request, but for now he let it be. 

Viktor searched Yuuri’s eyes for the kind of clarity that would allow him to agree. It wasn’t a sexual act, but certainly one so closely associated with mating that it might as well be. But Viktor seemed to find what he was looking for, and he brought his thumb to his lips, sucking the drop of milk off, and closed his eyes with a soft, happy noise. 

Yuuri had heard stories from the omegas he’d been with before, about how many alphas wouldn’t take their heat milk, thought it dirty and disgusting, not realizing it was for _them_ that the milk even came forth, meant to help sustain a partner through a rough and demanding heat. No omega would refuse such an intimate gesture, so freely given. Not even Viktor, who half the time seemed to know nothing about being an omega, despite having been one for a century longer than Yuuri had. 

Viktor sat up, allowing Yuuri to kiss him, to feed him another drop of milk off his index finger. Viktor hummed at the taste and let his head rest on Yuuri’s shoulder. He scented Yuuri’s neck, his fingers playing with the baby hairs at Yuuri’s nape, and he began to purr when Yuuri’s arms encircled him. 

“You scent me like an alpha,” Viktor murmured, his voice nearly a growl in between purrs. 

Yuuri’s wrists rubbed harder into Viktor’s lower back. He knew it was alpha-like, but it felt natural for him. After all he’d always been with betas, who didn’t usually know the difference, or more often omegas, who were used to alphas and wanted to be scented this way. Yuuri didn’t usually like having hands on his lower back, finding the scent glands there too sensitive for anything casual, so it worked out better for him too that Viktor rub his wrists against Yuuri’s neck. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah. I like it.” 

Yuuri’s watch buzzed, and Viktor yelped, the vibrations sending a jolt through his sensitive skin. “Ah, sorry!” Yuuri pulled away and checked the floating holographic display, seeing a message from Yuuko. 

_> So we’re abstract?_

“Huh?” He had no idea what she was talking about, until he remembered the press conference he’d filmed at the end of the regional competition was airing today. “Oh, did I say that?” 

> _You sure did. You said a lot of things._

_> Congratulations, by the way._

“Congratulations?” Yuuri squinted at his watch. “For -- oh, right. I won.”

“Oh, are they watching the broadcast?” Viktor asked, reading the display backwards. He’d been present at the press conference, and had seemed very proud of Yuuri after, saying what a good job he did and how much Viktor agreed with what Yuuri said. 

“Yeah. I’m not sure what she’s talking about. I kind of rambled at the press conference, I only remember about half of what I said.” 

“Oh.” Viktor stopped purring. 

“What’s wrong?”

Viktor shook his head. “Nothing. You said some things… I thought you remembered. Usually I’m the forgetful one.”

“What did I say?”

Viktor slumped a bit. “Look it up.” 

Yuuri did. He looked it up, and he watched it, and he felt his stomach drop. _My coach is the first person I’ve ever wanted to hold on to_ , he’d said. _I’m going to prove our love to the whole world with a gold medal at the Grand Prix Final_ , he’d said. He’d never said it so… directly. Explicitly. “Oh.” At least he hadn’t used Viktor’s actual name; what an incident that would have caused. 

Viktor slumped more. “Did you not mean it?”

“I— I think I did. I just, I didn’t know. Not until two nights ago, really.” 

“Oh.”

“Do you want me to say it again?” 

Viktor shook his head, rubbing his face into Yuuri’s shoulder as he did so. “Not if you’re not ready to. I’ll wait for you.” 

Yuuri nodded. He felt like their moment was broken, ruined by his impulsive words, by his tendency to black out when he was too nervous the same way he did when he was too drunk. 

“I do want to hear it though. Whenever you’re ready to, I want to hear you say it again.” 

Yuuri hugged Viktor tight, suddenly overcome with emotion, and Viktor made a cute squeaking noise in his surprise. 

Eventually they lay back down in the nest, and after a bit more quiet conversation, they fell asleep, knowing when they woke, Yuuri’s heat would be on its way. 

**Author's Note:**

> please subscribe to the series for updates!


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